


Feels Like Home

by Siberianskys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Curtain Fic, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Physical Disability, Schmoop, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-08
Updated: 2009-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:38:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siberianskys/pseuds/Siberianskys





	Feels Like Home

For once, Sam was pulled from sleep by something other than a blinding headache and residual images of people dying gruesome deaths. He smiled at the bright light pouring in through the rotting curtains. Rolling on to his back, he turned to look at his brother. The empty bed jerked him upright. Tossing off the covers, he stumbled to his feet. The bathroom door was open, lights off. His heart pounded as he opened the motel room door. Dean had given his word that he wouldn't make another attempt to end his life. Last night, Dean had resembled his old self. He'd flirted outrageously with their waitress and stole fried pickles and corn fritters from Sam’s plate. Now he wondered if Dean hadn't been trying to give him a good memory of their last night together.

"Looking for your friend?" the maid asked taking a pile of towels from her cart.

"You saw him?"

"Just a few minutes ago--out back," she said.

"Thank you," Sam said, ducking back into the room for his clothes and shoes.

***

The motel might have been falling apart, but the view from the rear was breathtaking. The field of dandelions looked like something Andrew Wyeth would have painted, Sam thought, remembering his Art History Prof's lecture on Christina's World. The analogy made his throat clench. His maimed brother was standing in a field of once golden flowers now gone to seed, whereas the disabled Christina had sat in a field of grass. He doubted Dean would appreciate the irony. Walking into the field, he forced himself to hold his arms at his sides; Dean wouldn't appreciate being on the receiving end of a crushing hug either.

"Wondered if you were ever gonna drag your ass out of bed," Dean said, not taking his eyes off the old farm house in the distance.

Sam followed his gaze. "You okay?"

Dean tilted his head and raised his eyebrow as he held up what was left of his mangled hands. "Peachy."

"Jerk," Sam muttered.

"Bitch," Dean shot back, smirking.

Sam dropped his arm around Dean's shoulders, prepared to be rewarded with an elbow to the gut. He was surprised when it didn't come. "I thought--I thought I was going to find you dead, if I found you at all," he said blinking back the tears that began to leak around his eyes.

"I made you a promise," Dean growled. "You think I was lyin?"

"I thought maybe it was one you just couldn't keep," Sam said, going willingly when Dean's arms wrapped around his waist and back, pulling him to his chest.

"You're stuck with me, Sammy," Dean whispered.

Stepping back, he took hold of Dean's wrists, holding on tightly when his brother tried to tug them away. He ran his thumbs along the jagged scars on the inside of each, the physical evidence of Dean's despair was worse than his ruined hands.

"Come on, dude, I need coffee," Dean said.

***

"You want to change your order?" Sam asked, watching Dean look longingly at the chicken-fried steak a waitress carried by their table.

Dean shook his head no.

"You need something, honey?" their waitress asked Dean as she refilled both of their coffee cups.

"Dean?" Sam prompted.

"Can I have the chicken-fried steak instead?" Dean asked.

"Sure," she said, patting his right hand. "You don't need to be embarrassed; this is farm country 'round here. You aren't the only one missin' a digit or two."

Sam shifted, ready to intervene when Dean exploded. It wasn't necessary. Dean turned one of his bright smiles on the waitress.

"You still want toast or would you rather have the biscuits and gravy?"

"Biscuits and gravy," Dean said.

"Comin' right up," she said.

"Thank you," Sam mouthed.

She gave him a warm smile as she bustled off to the kitchen.

"It's as good a place as any," Dean said.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I like it here," Dean said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Dean said using his palms to lift his coffee cup to his lips.

"I'll get a newspaper," Sam said, pushing back his chair.

"You can have mine," a middle-aged man with pock-marked, sun burned skin said, handing it to Sam.

"Thanks."

"Didn't mean to be eavesdroppin', but I heard you say you were thinkin' 'bout stayin'."

"Yes, sir," Dean said.

"Go see Aunt Sadie. She lives in that run down place up on the hill," he said gesturing toward the back of the motel. "She has trouble keepin' help. Everyone's 'fraid of Uncle Earle."

"Why" Dean asked.

"He's been dead for goin' on 30 years," the man grinned walking away.

Dean laughed.

"You oughta do that more often," their waitress said setting Dean's plate in front of him, the steak and biscuits already cut into bite-sized pieces.

"Eat up, Sammy," Dean said, popping a bite of steak into his mouth. "Don't wanna keep Sadie and Earle waiting."

***

"Well, if it idn't John Winchester's boys," Sadie Macgowan said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You think you're goin' to salt and burn my Earle, you got a nother thing comin'. Your Pappy tried that about five years back."

Sam and Dean shared a look.

"Ma'am, your nephew said you were looking for help," Sam said.

"Nephew--I don't have a nephew."

"There was a man at the diner--"

"Everybody calls me Aunt Sadie," she said, shaking her head.

"So you are looking for help?" Sam asked.

"That all depends."

"On what?" Dean asked.

"Don't sass me, boy."

Sam gaped at his brother when he meekly said, "Sorry, ma'am."

"And stop callin' me ma'am. Make me feel old. You think I'm old?"

"No, Aunt Sadie," Dean said, giving her his best innocent smile.

"And don't try that either. Your Pappy tried that smile on me when he came here trying to dig up my Earle."

"We're out of the body diggin'-up business," Dean said.

"I doubt that. Little thing like that won't keep you down long," she said nodding toward his hands. "So what can you do?"

"I'm still kind of working that out," Dean said.

"Not you. I already got somethin' in mind for you," she smiled. "I was asking your brother. You probably noticed that this place needs a lot a fixin' up. Can you paint, fix loose boards...stuff like that?"

"Yes, ma'--Yes, Aunt Sadie," Sam said.

"Good, I'll show you your room."

"What if Earle--"

"What's your name, boy?"

"Dean and that's Sam."

"Dean, if I like you, Earle'll like you. I'll give you boys a month. You get a room, three squares, a couple of snacks," she said patting his too-thin cheek, "and a $100 a week a piece. If you work out, we'll see about a raise. That suit you?"

"Sounds fair," Sam said.

Dean just smiled and nodded.

***

"A nanny--"

"Lily's a nice kid and she's already housebroke. More than I can say for your sorry ass when I started taking care of you," Dean grumbled.

Sam rolled onto his side and stared down into his brother's eyes. "You really like it here?"

"It--haven't we had enough chick-flick moments...?" Dean mumbled.

Stroking his hand down his brother's abdomen, Sam leaned over and ran his tongue along Dean's lips.

"People don't stare," Dean said turning his eyes toward the wall. "You hate it, don't you? Bunch of hicks. Guess when the month’s over we can find a college town somewhere--it's not like I even asked what you want."

Sam tangled his fingers in Dean's hair and turned his face back toward him. "You're happy for the first time in months--"

"Dude," Dean warned.

"Go to sleep," Sam said, pillowing his head on his brother's chest.

"You are such a girl," Dean said, closing his eyes.

***

The End


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